


Sing for Me

by JellyPanda00



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fuck Or Die, Geralt is oblivious to Jaskier’s feelings, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Requited Love, overused trope but I’m here for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22151161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellyPanda00/pseuds/JellyPanda00
Summary: Jaskier followed his Witcher into the forest hoping for a new tale to sing of. Instead he found himself under the spell of a succubus, leaving the two to fuck or die
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 88
Kudos: 1826
Collections: GERALT AND JASKIER ARE FUCKING GAY





	Sing for Me

**Author's Note:**

> Is this a way over used trope? Yes. Am I still and forever will be a sucker for it? Hell yeah.

“Geralt!”

“The mighty Witcher!”

“Butcher of Blavikens!”

“For fuck’s sake!”

Roach slowed to a stop. With a deep sigh, Geralt looked over his shoulder at the bard who was running to catch up with his horse, his lute swinging wildly from his hand.

“Oh good, you haven’t gone deaf,” Jaskier huffed as he neared, bracing his hands on his thighs to catch his breath. “So, where are we heading today?”

Geralt deadpanned. “We?”

“Of course!” Jaskier sat up, an incredulous look scrunching his features. “You can’t go on an adventure without your best friend! Besides, how will I sing tales of your greatness if I’m not there? Lord knows you won’t give me enough details to write a full song.”

The Witcher rolled his eyes, urging Roach onward. 

“So,” the bard continued, trying to trot beside the horse. “What is it today? Another devil? A jinn? Oh, we could go to the tavern and talk to-”

“A demon.”

Jaskier stopped dead in his tracks, blue eyes wide in surprise. “A demon? Like an actual demon?”

“Mmm.” Geralt thought for a moment. “More likely a witch who lost herself to chaos from what I’ve heard.”

Jaskier perked up, the excitement he exuded palpable in the air. "So we’re headed to deal with an insane witch? Do you have a plan?”

“To not die.”

“Sure, great” Jaskier nodded. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

The bard swung his lute into his arms, strumming a small tune as if he was trying to find the best melody. “And in… And in a short moment, the two were off, the old white wolf and his faithful bard.”

“Old?” Geralt interrupted, eyebrows raised.

Jaskier chuckled, pausing his tune. “Well, how old are you?”

“... One hundred. I think.”

“Woah, I was thinking forty or something. One hundred years old. Definitely old though,” the man snickered before picking his lute up again, strumming out the melody to continue his song. “And in a short moment, the two were off: the old white wolf and his faithful bard. To slay a new foe with hope to not crow? Crow? No, wait… with hope to not croak! That’s what I was thinking of. Mind if we stop and I can write this down?”

Geralt didn’t reply. In lieu of silence when it was obvious that the Witcher wasn’t going to continue the conversation, the man continued to sing and babble on.

Thankfully, the ride didn’t last very long and before they knew it, they had made it into the woods, following the well-worn path into the dense trees until the sunlight was no longer visible, just as the man who had tracked the Witcher down had said.

“Go until the sun doesn’t shine and you will find her,” Geralt looked around, straining his eyes to see into the darkness.

“Witcher.”

Jaskier yelped, jumping back at the sudden appearance of a woman in front of them. She wore no clothes, dirt clinging to her skin so dark her legs and hands looked black. Still, she was beautiful in an inhuman way.

“And you are?” he asked. She was obviously intelligent enough to know he was a witcher, making him hesitant to immediately strike at her.

The woman did not answer, instead, lunging towards Jaskier with such speed the man had no time to move away before he was being held against her chest, their lips crushed together in something odd and painful. Jaskier’s veins turned black as he let out a pained whine, pushing weakly at the woman in an attempt to get away.

Acting on instinct, Geralt dove towards his friend, drawing his sword and holding it to her neck. “Let him go,” he growled in warning.

She gave him a sly look, eyes pitch back and void of any humanity as Jaskier fell limp against her.

Geralt desperately plunged his sword into her neck, but no blood spilled. Instead, black sludge dripped out of the wound and her body to smoke.

Jaskier collapsed to the floor, hat and lute falling into the sludge forgotten.

“Dammit,” Geralt growled, grabbing onto the bard’s clothes and hauling him up. The man fell limp inside his tunic, like a child’s doll with no life to it. His black veins stood out stark against his ghastly skin, paling as if the life was draining out of him by the second.

The Witcher hurriedly tossed him onto the back of Roach, climbing behind so he could hold onto the man as they rode.

Witchers don’t feel.

Except, the thought of losing the one friend that he had in this world sent a surge of emotion to his heart. He urged Roach on, pushing her to her max speed as they ran out of the woods towards the nearest town.

“Healer! I need a healer!” Geralt shouted, following the direction that startled people pointed him in until he found the building. He grabbed Jaskier, hauling him into the building without knocking. “He’s been cursed, I assume.” he snapped at the man with medicine covering his hands and a woman sitting at the table both staring at him as if he had grown a second head right before their eyes.

“I-uh- right, of course,” the healer stuttered, wiping his hands onto his pants. “Set him on the table, do you know what attacked him?”

It was no witch.

“A succubus,” the realization had dawned on him at the kiss.

“Ah. I’ve treated the men of this village for years know for the same thing, she’s been terrorizing the town.”

“I’ll take care of her later,” Geralt nodded.

The healer nodded, prying open Jaskier's mouth. He reached into the cabinet, pulling out a vile of putrid green liquid.

The second the liquid touched his mouth, Jaskier gasped, eyes wide with fear. He grabbed onto the man’s hand, trying to push the vile away.

“No! Jaskier, drink it,” Geralt leaped up, placing a hand to his chest.

“Hurts,” he whined, laying back down with Geralt’s urging hand.

"Why does it still hurt?" Geralt asked, turning his attention to the healer. Jaskier's hands curled around his much bigger hand, clutching it tightly to his chest.

"Well," the healer began, tucking a strand of hair behind his elf ear. "It was a succubus attack. And though most usually drain their victims on sight, this one enjoys playing with her victims. She doesn't outright kill them but makes them suffer. And any energy they use to break their suffering goes to her. It doesn't kill them- that way she has an endless supply of energy."

Geralt nodded. He had come across his fair share of succubi and incubi in his time on earth, he just needed to focus. But, focusing is hard when someone whining in pain was holding onto your hand as if it was his lifeline. "So in order to end his suffering, he has to exude a lot of sexual energy."

The healer nodded. "With the person he most desires would be preferable. I've found that cures them the fastest. He'll begin burning up soon. If you'd like there is an inn just next door you can take him to."

Geralt nodded, pulling out his satchel. "How much?"

"If you can kill the bloody thing, it'll be on the house."

The Witcher grunted. "Deal. Once I find someone for him to... deal with, I'll take care of her."

The healer offered him a smile. "Thank you, white wolf. I've heard stories of you, the great butcher of Blavikens, I hope you succeed."

Geralt nodded again at the praise, still unsure of how to accept such words. He gathered the bard into his arms, ignoring his groans of protest.

Once outside, Roach faithfully stood, waiting for him to return. She followed him over to the inn and into the stables located just outside.

"I'll come back when this is over and take care of you, alright?" he asked, patting the horse on her shoulder.

"Geralt, please," Jaskier whined. "Hot."

"Right," he carried the man bridal style into the inn, tossing an indiscriminate amount of coin on the counter and heading towards the rooms. The innkeeper, for her worth, seemed to understand the urgency as she quickly grabbed hold of a room key and hurried after him, unlocking the first door they came across without a word and tossing the key onto the cabinet closest to the door.

Vaguely, it occurred to him that this inn was probably notorious for where people brought victims of the succubus since it was so close to both the woods and the healer.

He sat the man gingerly onto the bed who immediately began clawing at his clothes, pulling his tunic down as far as he could, revealing wiry chest hairs in his wake.

"Jaskier," Geralt quickly helped him pull his tunic off. "Is there anyone you'd prefer me to get for you? I can try-"

"You."

Geralt froze. "What."

"You. Please, I want you so badly, just touch me I need it," the bard bit his lips, the blue of his eyes reduced to the smallest of rings possible.

Geralt shook his head. There was no way that the bard wanted his touch- all the man could talk about was all the women he bedded whether they were married, mothers, princesses, or prostitutes, never men. Without an answer, Geralt helped free the man of his pants before he hurt himself trying to pull at the strings that held them together, thinking of going to the tavern and finding a pretty lady who would hopefully agree.

"I've wanted you for so long," Jaskier continued, pulling his underpants off to reveal his flushed, hard cock. It strained against his abdomen, the tip just as red as his cheeks.

He was certainly a sight, legs splayed out and hand already stroking his erection, brown hair tussled against the pillows. Geralt was torn between labeling the sight as a work of art or of lust, not that the two were mutually exclusive he supposed. 

"Hurts. Please?" Jaskier groveled. "We can do it however you want, do anything you want, I'll do anything."

It felt wrong. He knew the man would never be saying these words if not for the condition he was in. It felt like he was taking advantage of him in the worst of ways to give in.

But then again...

"Just this once, to put some sense back in your head enough for me to go get someone else," Geralt subsided.

Perching himself onto the edge of the bed, he resisted the urge to hesitate and reached out, grabbing hold of his cock.

Jaskier mewled at the touch, pushing into the hand as much as he could while his own reached for his chest, twisting and pinching at the rosy nipples with a grin. Blue clashed with unnatural gold, holding his gaze in a direct challenge- as if he was urging the other to make the first move. 

It wasn't often that Geralt touched himself- in just about every town there was a woman who wanted the ability to say they've slept with a Witcher, and he hadn't slept with another man in several decades at least.

He tried to remember the movements that pleased him the most when women did it though, moving his thumb over the flushed head to gather the pearls of liquid, pulling it down to wet the underside, reaching up to twist his hand over the top.

With a scream, Jaskier came, thrusting as quickly as he could into the Witcher's hand until it became too much and he fell against the bed with a moan.

"Oh fuck. Fuck how am I still hard?" Jaskier panted, looking down at himself and then back at his friend. “How did I cum that quickly? Gods.”

"It's her magic. She needs as much energy as possible." Geralt explained, standing from the bed.

Jaskier growled quickly "Just where do you think you're going?"

"A brothel most likely. See if I can't find you someone to satisfy you until the curse wears off."

"No! No, don't. Don't leave. You don’t understand!”

The hopelessness in the bard’s voice caught him off guard.

"Oh Witcher," Jaskier groaned. The awareness in his eyes was beginning to fade already though it hadn't been nearly long enough. "You're so, so stupid. A himbo in its entirety."

Geralt grunted in reply, making a mental note to ask the man what exactly a himbo was when the night was over.

Jaskier looked like an absolute whore as he spread his legs in an open invitation against the stark white sheets. His brown hair tousled against the sheets, matted with sweat, a dark flush from his cheeks down into the large tufts of hair on his chest.

The honesty in his voice was evident, erasing any doubt when he uttered: "I want you, no one else."

And really, who was Geralt to resist.

The Witcher tossed off his heavy cloak, pushing himself out of armor and the first few layers of clothing until he was down to his undershirt.

Jaskier moaned wantonly as Geralt rolled up his sleeves, exposing his strong, tight forearms.

The second his ass made contact with the bed, Jaskier climbed atop his lap ravenously, placing a hungry, desperate kiss to the Witcher’s lips. Daft hands fumbled at his belt, pulling and tugging until the metal clasp gave way and he was able to pull the leather strip out, tossing it aside.

Jaskier always smelt like the earth. Summer maybe, like the warm sunlight warming the dirt as you lay in a field of dandelions. Now, Geralt could smell their arousal mixing in with the warmth, claiming the man as his own and in turn as his, if only for the night.

Geralt growled low in his chest, pulling away only to mouth at the man's neck, biting down hard enough to make him cry and then kiss the abused skin in apology. Jaskier's fingers wove themselves into his long, white strands, tugging just on the edge of being painful.

"I need-"

"Wait," Geralt ordered. He reached down, pulling his cock out of his pants. It wasn't as though he was unaffected from the beautiful man begging to be touched and defiled every few seconds.

Jaskier glanced down. "Fuck."

"Yes." Geralt nodded. If he wasn't so drunk on need, Jaskier would have lost it at the joke, instead, all he could do was stare.

"You're huge," he said in astonishment. "It's never going to fit."

Geralt bit back a snort, smugly replying "You'd be surprised." He grabbed both of their cocks together in a tight fist, slowly jerking them off together, each rough drag of skin together making Jaskier sob, tugging harder on his hair.

"I'm not gonna last, please," Jaskier canted his hips up fast and hard, bucking into the hand like it was a woman.

"That's alright, go ahead." Geralt assured him.

Just as he neared the edge, legs quivering with the effort, Geralt took his hand away.

"No no no no no," Jaskier cried. He was right there, the burning heat in his abdomen released in the most painful way as if he had been brought to the cliff intending to jump but tripped instead. The orgasm squeezed out of him with no friction to aid it. His hips jerked wildly searching for anything to relieve the overwhelming sensation to no avail.

Jaskier looked up at Geralt with watery eyes, tears beginning to streak his cheeks once he caught his breath. "That was cruel."

"Sorry," Geralt smirked. He gently ran his thumb over the man's oversensitive cock, holding onto his waist so he couldn't escape the touch long enough to gather up the cum that now dripped down his member.

Slicking his fingers with the liquid, he urged Jaskier's tired body up so he could reach around, pulling his supple cheeks apart enough to slid a finger into the space, teasing at the perky rosebud. 

The first finger made Jaskier nearly come off the bed, though the hazy, spaced-out look in his eyes was slow to return as if he was still mildly coherent. With coherency though came the bard's endless spill of words from his mouth.

"Spells wearing off," Geralt commented though he was quickly hushed with the bard's lips against his.

He was doing his best to go slow, be thorough as he knew he often had to even stretch women in order to take his dick, but with Jaskier begging softly in his ear, biting and nipping at his skin made it hard to concentrate enough.

"I want you so bad. I could sing song after song about this night, how your fat dick speared me open until the sun rose. I want you to come in me over and over Geralt, use me." Jaskier whispered in his ear. "Fuck me like I'm nothing but a bitc-" his words were cut off by a moan when the Witcher added another thick finger.

"Do you want me to do this right?" Geralt asked in a warning.

"Not really, go ahead, I'm sure there's oil in the bedside table," Jaskier suggested with a sly grin.

Geralt looked him up and down. "Fine, but don't complain when it hurts."

He reached over, finding the said oil hidden in one of the drawers as if it made its use any more discreet. Popping open the cork lid, he poured the liquid into his hand, warming it up before slathering it onto his cock.

Jaskier happily lifted off the bed enough for the man to line himself up before sinking down onto the thick member.

"Too-too much," Jaskier whined, not even half way down.

"I told you," Geralt quipped back, though he did stop urging the man down onto his cock until he caught his breath some and moved on his own, settling down until their pelvises met. And still, he froze, resisting the urge to pound into the stupidly handsome man until he was senseless, at least until he was ready.

"I think I'm in love with you," Jaskier whimpered. "Or I'm in love with your cock. I've never been so full."

Geralt brushed the confession off without a second thought. Even if the spell was wearing off, Jaskier was still obviously being affected by its powers.

Jaskier tentatively raised his hips, rocking down on the Witcher's cock until he found a rhythm. He leaned back, releasing his grip on Geralt's hair with one hand so he could brace himself on still a still clothed powerful thigh.

The Witcher met his thrusts, stroking his cock in time.

"Stop, I don't trust you," Jaskier growled, trying to jerk himself away from the previously offensive hand.

Geralt rolled his eyes. "I won't do it again, promise."

"I can't... it's like I'm constantly on the edge, I won't last again." Jaskier begged.

"I know, it’s alright." Geralt assured him, hurrying his thrusts and arching his hips until he found that sweet spot that made Jaskier moan like a whore.

"Oh gods please please keep doing that," Jaskier begged, letting Geralt take the lead once again.

Within moments Jaskier was coming again, so little left inside his empty sack it sputtered pathetically in a hot dribble over his hands.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, his dick fell flaccid in the man's hand, the cloudy haze of lust leaving his eyes for good.

"Bless," Jaskier groaned, falling limp and heaving out heavy breaths.

Geralt, however, wasn't done. He grabbed the man with the hand still resting on his sharp hips, all but throwing him back until his back hit the plush bedding. His back arched when Geralt re-entered him, his spent cock twitching valiantly against his thigh.

With each thrust, the Witcher searched for that spot that made the bard sing, watching him desperately writhe and shake, pawing weakly at the grip on his waist as though he wanted him to let go, though they both know if he did, Jaskier would damn near cry.

“Sing for me,” Geralt purred low in his throat, those unfocused blue eyes meeting sharp gold.

“Wha-mmm!” he screamed as Geralt bit down onto his nipple, thrusting harder into the pliant body beneath him and tugging harshly on the sensitive skin to draw a scream from his throat.

Despite what people seemed to believe when they bedded the Witcher, Geralt wasn’t known for his stamina.

He did what the bard had suggested earlier, jack rabbitting into the willing hole until he came, fucking his cum into his body as deep as he could before collapsing against the man, exhausted.

“Geralt, you’re crushing me.”

He grunted in response, rolling off of the human and onto his side. He’d deal with the succubus later, at the moment he needed a nap.

A warm, comforting weight settled against his back, a hand slipping under his shirt to wrap around his chest. He was about to say something- the comment about being the little spoon in the situation dying on his tongue at the light snore that resonated between his shoulder blades. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt comfortable enough to fall asleep next to someone, much less cuddle together. He let his eyes close slowly, relishing in the feeling of safety and comfort.

  
  


Jaskier was downright panicking. And trying to panic discreetly next to a Witcher was next to impossible with his heightened senses.

They had slept together. Multiple times. He’d called him a himbo, begged to be fucked like a bitch in heat. He’d said he loved him, admitted how much he desired him and no one else- something he very much kept to himself for many years now. They had napped together with Jaskier wrapped around the man like he was a damn tree even until well into the night from the look of the windows. It wasn’t worth sacrificing their friendship over, but now it would undoubtedly end. The Witcher would leave him without a second thought, probably disgusted at the mere idea of him.

Jaskier had seen the women the man bedded. There was no way he could compare to the fierce beauty of them- especially his most recent thrall Yennefer. After seeing the two of them together he had passed a mirror in a tavern. He saw how wretched he looked compared to the women, not to mention his personality seems to always be annoying to the Witcher. It must have been pity, which made the entire situation that much worse.

“Jaskier.”

The bard jumped, startled to see those glowing eyes looking him up and down with concern. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I… I’m sorry.” Jaskier choked out. “For earlier today, I mean. I didn’t… I couldn’t think.”   
Geralt raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him, but otherwise didn’t respond, leaving the man to run his mouth and dig himself into a deeper grave.

“I never wanted you to know. I hid it so well for so long,” he hid his face in his hands, unwilling to let the man see the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “Please don’t hate me. We can go back to how things used to be, I promise. Pity fucks shouldn’t mean anything anyway.”   
“Why are you crying?”

Jaskier froze, not daring to look up. “No reason.”   
“I’m not an idiot,” that gruff voice answered. A hand wrapped its way around his wrist, pulling his hand away. “Don’t lie to me.”

Well, there was no getting out of it now, he supposed. This really was the end. “You know how much I want you now, but you don’t feel the same way. It’s alright, I understand. I’ll… I’ll pay you back for the room and you’ll never see me again, swear.”   
Geralt grumbled low in his throat like a grumpy old man. “You’re making assumptions.”   
Jaskier let out a pitiful laugh, though there was no humor in his voice. “Right. You’re saying you have similar feelings towards someone you don’t even think of as even a friend?”   
When he didn’t receive an answer, he hesitantly raised his face to look at Geralt. Firey gold eyes found his, watching him with a new intensity. “You never let on that you had any sort of feelings for me.”

“Yes, yes I did. Why do you think I approached you in the first place that first day?”

Geralt wrinkled his forehead as he thought about it. After a moment he let out a deep sigh, relaxing back against the bed. “Come here.”   
“What.”   
“I said,” Geralt gave him a look. “Come here.”   
Unsure, Jaskier scooted closer in the bed, keenly aware of how naked he was compared to Geralt who still wore his pants and undershirt. The Witcher grabbed him, pulling him down to rest against his extremely buff chest.

As he slowly began to relax against the man, uncertainty easing away into a worry of the future, Geralt spoke up again.

“The hell is a himbo?”

**Author's Note:**

> Geralt is an amazingly smart person until it comes to feelings, in which case he is a himbo, fight me. Let me know what you thought about it, I love reading comments!! Come follow me @jellypanda00 on twitter and scream about the Witcher with me ((please I have no friends lmao))


End file.
